


You Caught Me Once

by Misslethwaite



Series: When We Fall [1]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Basically all the themes already found in Asylum, Canon-Typical Violence, Demonic Possession, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Violence, rated for possible trigger warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-23 18:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16623869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misslethwaite/pseuds/Misslethwaite
Summary: "Are you gonna hurt me now? Or are you gonna hurt me later...?" A slight AU of sorts - What if Mary Eunice tried to do something about the Devil - long before Timothy did - and Lana Winters was the only witness?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So...Never tried Bananun/Sister Winters/etc before writing this back in 2014 so this could be awful - Foxxay is my forte - but I hope it isn’t so bad. Promised I would finally archive it from tumblr/ff.net to here to make it more accessible. Apologies for any OOCness. Rated for potentital trigger warnings with themes of self-harm, threats of violence, sexual implications, etc... The usual Asylum warnings basically. Enjoy this prologue of sorts...

Rain slathered the window panes in sheets. Thunder rumbled overhead, shook the foundations of the old architecture, each brick and pipe trembled. Darkness cloaked the figure in the room; impossible to distinguish material from shadow save for the seconds worth of lightning. 

‘Oh heavenly father,’ a plea, a prayer; low, cracked anguish. ‘Please…’ The voice faltered, words lost under the weight of thunder, until she took an unsteady breath and tried again. ‘ _Please_ , let me end this _torment_.’ 

_Flash._

The shine of metal placed against the stark contrast of pale exposed flesh. The black sleeve had been drawn back to reveal the skin below.

_Flash._

The appliance of pressure as slight as the sharp intake of breath. For a moment hesitation seemed to overwhelm her, not a movement to be seen besides the tremble of her bones.

Another breath and she pulled the metal downward. Another flash and she cried out in violent verbal protest of her own actions.

In seconds the direction of the blade was redirected until it left the flesh, span from her grip, clattered to the floor in a spatter of scarlet. Scathing, scolding, sharp disapproval of the self was spat aloud as she scrambled for gauze, a towel, the first scrap of cloth her fingers could grasp and wrapped it around the wrist which bled profusely.

_Flash._

Blonde tendrils flew in search of the source of sound when the metal flap that served as a cover for the slit in the door for observation clanged shut with an echo.

Lana Winters retreated to her room, decidedly ill at ease, unable to understand just what it was that she had witnessed…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short scene here, and no Lana in this one, it’s more just a set-up for the next part which is much longer that I’m still fleshing out, until the next instalment where the action picks up the pace.

It was only when Sister Mary Eunice passed along the small pile of manila folders she had asked for the younger nun to gather several hours earlier that Sister Jude noticed that something was not quite right. The edge of Mary’s sleeve pulled back across her arm as she leaned over to offer the files. Instead of the pallid flesh of her wrist, a padding of white that continued to snake under the dark cotton revealed. Sister Jude took the folders from the offered hands but her eyes, her sceptical gaze, did not waver from the white gauze.

‘What on earth happened to your arm?’ Jude asked in a tone of attempted disregard as she flicked through the pages but could not quite focus on the printed words. Sister Eunice’s eyes met her own but there was something about the lop-sided smile that didn’t sit well with the older nun. Was this not the same girl before her who just months prior became but a mewling mess of tears at the very thought of physical pain? Granted Sister Jude herself had reprimanded the child many a time, wished to the lord almighty even for the woman to wise up to the ways of the world and find some strength, if only to accept the goings on around the asylum without shedding a tear or two. But such a swift turn around was unusual, even for her.

‘An incident with one of the patients, sister, that’s all.’ The smile never seemed to subside. ‘Things got a little out of hand.’ Jude shook her head with apparent disapproval and returned her gaze to the papers at hand as she began to walk towards the corridor.

‘I trust they were put swiftly back in hand, sister? We can’t have this kind of behaviour becoming a common occurrence.’ Jude reinstated over her shoulder as Mary kept up step behind her, the click of their footsteps echoed across the walls, hers always a second behind. ‘We are in short supply as it is and this institution simply cannot afford such expense or the loss of any member of staff especially under such circumstances.’ She declared as the folder she glanced at shut with a slap and Jude drew to a halt at the end of the corridor. ‘But of course that goes without saying.’ She added, turned to face Sister Eunice who merely nodded in agreement.

‘It does indeed, sister.’ Mary pried at her own sleeve, drew the dark cotton over the corner of gauze before she clasped her hands together in front of her; a deceptively innocent stance.

‘Well, if that is all, you may return to your duties.’ Sister Jude continued and waved her free hand in a vague gesture of direction. Again the girl opposite her nodded and turned on her heel to head back the way they had come. ‘But take care with that arm of yours.’ Jude called after her, voice echoing along the hall. ‘You’re one of the few I actually consider useful about this place. I don’t want to hear you having lost it next!’ There was no response from the retreating figure – was she taller just then? Was that a swing in her step? - besides the click of her heels as she sauntered away.


	3. Chapter 3

She heard the door click open and resisted the urge to roll her eyes with an inward groan. Sister Jude drew the sentence to an end and after she had restored the lid, dropped the pen in hand to the desk top. Her fingers laced together atop the wood as she looked up from her work.

‘How many times must I tell you to knock before you learn?’ Jude reprimanded with obvious disdain. Sister Mary Eunice tried to remain poised after having stumbled on her way into the office, although it appeared she did so with some difficulty not to mention her stance looked awkward; one arm clutched to her side in a weakly folded gesture. She seemed caught between wanting to stand with that aura of self-importance so commonly seen as of late and wanting to curl up into as small a version of herself as possible.

‘I know, sister…’ Her voice was quieter than Jude anticipated, not that she had a tendency to be too loud on an average day, but still Jude simply could not let her lack of manners concerning the entrance to her office subside so easily; she had told the girl time and again about knocking prior entry, although she was not the only culprit among the congregation of sisters.

‘Then why must you always insist…’ Jude began deprecatingly.

‘I just…I just came to say I’m sorry…’ Mary interrupted although her gaze remained drawn to the floor. Jude nearly threw up her hands with exasperation but managed to keep her composure as she stood up from her desk with an aggravated sigh.

‘An apology is hardly worth such an interruption,’ she berated, almost desired to grip the young woman’s shoulders and shake her.

‘I’m sorry sister, and…’ Tears dripped down the blonde’s cheeks, fell to the floor and Jude saw her shoulders start to tremble. ‘And I guess this is goodbye…’ Mary mumbled. Jude was taken aback by the admission, not to mention confused. There had been no sign prior to that moment that the girl wished to resign, far from it, she seemed to have improved over the last few weeks. There was no mention on her part until then either, had an incident with a patient shaken her so much, even after she had grown such a spine?

‘Goodbye?’ She caught a glance of Mary’s eyes before the younger woman turned her back on Jude so that she was only faced with her hunched shoulders. Jude could have sworn that she heard mutterings under Mary’s breath, foul things about herself. ‘Is this about the incident with your arm?’ Silence was all she received in response. ‘Just where on earth do you think you’re going to go so far as to give a goodbye?’ Jude asked with a scoffing disbelief. If this was an elaborate hoax of some kind… Mary shook her head, took a shuddering breath.

‘I know it’s a sin sister, but I’ve done so much worse…’ Her words came out in a shaky sob. Jude’s severe expression softened just a little in concern as she made her way out from behind the desk fully and took a few steps closer to where Sister Eunice stood by the door. Not expecting the uncharacteristic action, Jude’s body flinched in the slightest when Mary’s other hand left her side and smacked onto the wall – hard.

‘What is it that you think you have done, child?’ She asked, gentler than usual. Anger would not help the situation, of this she was well aware despite the slightest of temptations within. Answers would not come so easily if she sent the already fragile girl over the edge she seemed to stand on. ‘What has caused this doubt of faith in you?’

‘I can’t ask you to forgive me anymore…it was all I could do…’ Jude could barely make out the words, caught as they were in the throat, interlaced with tears and unstable intonation. To say she was unnerved was an understatement, for these were not the loud melodramatic sobs of a petty child anymore, but a twisted, quiet anguish that stole breath like a thief with a cold hand clutched about the heart, each intake a dire constriction in the wake of its arrival.

‘Mary, my girl,’ The older nun said softly, surprised herself at the sensitive tone in her voice. She had to know, had to understand the meaning for this breakdown. ‘What did you do?’

Mary merely shook her head, more violently than before. Had the headpiece that covered her long blonde hair not been tucked into place so piously before, it would have fallen; tendrils of flaxen locks had already begun to escape in an unruly fashion. Before Jude could take a step or two closer to the distraught young woman, Mary had retreated through the door in a rush, prying desperately at the handle in a slippery grasp to exit. A hand had risen to her mouth in shock; the bloody handprint on the wall, a dark stain on the dark wall as well the handle of the door. It took a few seconds of disbelief for Sister Jude to regain her composure and with little hesitation otherwise she followed after the sister. The fiery determination in her eyes died a little, although the swiftness of her step did not, as she saw Mary who stumbled along the corridor for a moment and had to grip the banister as her knees tried to give way beneath her own weight. From her vantage point it seemed as though it was a fight to continue, half of her convinced to collapse, the other to keep moving.

‘Arden!’ Jude called – frantic – but there seemed to be no sight or sound of the physician on the level where they were. He could have been anywhere in the building for all Jude knew, she hadn’t seen him for several hours and the chances of being heard were slim at best amongst other screaming patients on the floors below. She called once again to no avail as she hurried toward her charge who had hit the floor in what looked like an uncomfortable crouched position. The blonde’s head was held in her hands, eyes clamped shut tight as she mumbled and muttered away to herself, unaware of Jude’s presence so close.

‘You foolish girl, you tried to doom us both…no other way…you’ll only be dooming yourself, I will live on in another!…so be it…I can’t do this anymore…no! I refuse to die this way! I will not die a coward’s death, not this day!’

Jude, admittedly confused by the verbal warfare, crouched beside her uncharacteristically, her knees not used to the movement gave a quiet complaint that she pushed aside in her mind, focused as she was. She placed a gentle hand on Mary’s arm, pried her from her small position on the floor to get a better look for the origin of the blood on her hands. The older sister berated herself for her absence of forethought, as she discovered she had nothing at hand to halt the process of the bleeding. Pressing a hand, for lack of much else, to her charge’s side she searched Mary’s eyes for any sign of protest. There was not much point, as the familiar sea-glass gaze was still hidden beneath closed lids and the girl’s hands lay listlessly in her lap unwilling to help although she did not physically object either.

‘Look at me, look at me.’ The commanding tone reserved for the most unruly of patients; it covered the worry that Jude felt run through her veins, the longing to know what had happened, what had led to this moment. She would never admit it aloud, but the warm liquid that seeped under her fingers unnerved her so greatly, there was something different about it being someone she knew, not a numbered patient or a stranger never seen before. Obeying the voice of reason, Mary’s eyes opened a little, looked up into Jude’s own concerned gaze for a moment, filled with a stormy sadness.

‘I’m so tired…’ Such a small confession. ‘Forgive me sister for I was weak and stupid…’

‘Now you hush, conserve your strength,’ Jude chastised, albeit lightly with a slight shake of her head. Whether such a shaking notion was of disapproval or disbelief it was not possible to distinguish. ‘We will get you to the infirmary and all this will be dealt with. You will be fine. I will personally find the one responsible and give them a lashing of 50 lifetimes.’ As firm as her tone was, there was a worry that lingered underneath such a cool exterior. Her fingers tapped lightly on Mary’s pallid cheek as she saw the young woman’s eyes roll sluggishly as Jude cursed Arden’s name and absence. It may have simply been a trick of the lights above, or at least that was what he told herself when she saw a flicker of gold – or was it auburn? – in Mary’s eyes. There wasn’t long to consider such a sight as her eyes began to roll back into her head.

‘Stay with me, stay,’ she commanded. Footsteps somewhere ahead of them drew Jude’s gaze upwards with expectation and anticipation. Rather than the white clad figure of Arden however, in his place stood a somewhat hesitant Lana Winters. 

‘What’s going on?’ The brunette asked, her dark eyes filled with confusion at the scene presented before her. When Lana had slipped out of the common room below and made her way up the staircase in order to have another attempt at talking with the nun in charge, she certainly had not expected to see the same woman with blood on her hands, in the very literal sense. Yes, many times Lana had considered the woman to be manipulative, untrustworthy and she may go as far as to say almost borderline psychotic but something about the look on her face told the reporter that all was not as it seemed. Was anything ever as it seemed within the four walls of Briarcliff? ‘Sister Jude?’

‘The men in this establishment are useless when you need them.’ Jude murmured to herself with blatant bitterness. All too aware of the limp form beside her, Jude sighed before she addressed the tentative reporter. ‘Help me get her to the infirmary.’

Lana’s hesitation was clear; the most movement she made was to shuffle her slipper clad feet uneasily.

‘Well don’t just stand there! Need I threaten you with a cane before you move, Miss Winters?’ Jude all but barked, aggravated by the woman. Certainly it was not the most ideal of circumstances, but there was no-one else and Jude could not successfully move Mary on her own. ‘I thought you were a sympathetic soul, you writer types,’ she provoked. ‘Or perhaps you’ll find some information to prattle to a patient - you journalists all hunger for carrion like vulture. So be it. Just don’t stand there.’ With enough chastisement – not to mention the chance to relieve herself of future punishment perhaps in mind – Lana helped Jude escort the unconscious form of Sister Eunice to the infirmary, disturbed by the way the blonde’s head lolled on her shoulders. This was the second time she had witnessed the young sister with blood. It was not like the sister was conscious enough to answer the burning questions she had, nor could she reliably do so with the intimidating figure of Sister Jude in such close vicinity but she couldn’t help but think that such scenes were not merely coincidence…


	4. Chapter 4

‘Moping over your failings will do you no good, Dr Arden.’ Bitterness in her tone was positively palpable, so much so the man in question merely looked back with a deep frown. Nevertheless, Sister continued her tirade of condemnation concerning his earlier misgivings. The fact that as the key physician on the premises, he wasn’t around sooner seethed her to no end, especially with his attitude which seemed to have been caught on a flipside the moment he discovered Mary was involved. ‘Make yourself useful and just maybe you will redeem your poor error of judgement.’

‘But sister…I should…’ Arden began to protest, not that Sister Jude gave him much of a chance to go on.

‘You should do nothing other than what is required of you and your services, Dr Arden. And as it stands there are other patients in need of your medical…prowess…’ An undercurrent of derision. The look on his face almost sought for her to let him stay; Sister Jude merely shook her head before she continued to usher him from the room. ‘I shall be sure to inform you if her condition changes - you shall be the first to know - but until then I’m afraid your assets are desired elsewhere than this vicinity.’ Her severe tone was all but a physical push which again he seemed to disapprove of himself.

‘But what about observation? Supervision?’ The doctor urged. Although he did not personally agree with Jude’s suspicions that she had confided in him, he attempted provocation. ‘If it is as you say, then surely someone should…’ Much to his displeasure, she had already considered such a thing and her considerations did not include him beyond any strictly medical capacity.

‘Such circumstances have already been taken care of Dr, I have already appointed someone to keep a close eye on our charge here without cause for complaint or misdemeanour.’ She insisted. 

‘Surely the sisters would not…’ It was no secret, the fear that had begun to spread amongst some of the other sisters. At first only minimal incidents concerning Eunice’s change in behaviour, but of course once rumour had swiftly begun to circulate of this latest event regardless of circumstance which even Jude was at a loss about, the desire to avoid had spread like wildfire among the majority of the pure lest they too be dragged into whatever unfortunate goings on occurred. As much as she refused to admit that Dr Arden was at least partially correct in his assumptions, Jude had already contemplated her available options; the only staff willing on the ward to undertake such a task were already underhanded amongst other patients with crippling diagnoses or serious illness that warranted much of their hours with little to spare. So after much deliberation on her part, Jude figured the best thing to do, at least in terms of observation at least, was to request the help of someone with enough established sanity to do as they were bid, without any other duties or things to do that got in the way. Even if she had to offer something in return, which was more than likely given her viable options, the whole idea seemed more ideal than leaving the rest and recuperation to either herself who had little time between the demands of the asylum to be effective, or the not-so-subtle leering presence of the older doctor whom she had always held at an arm’s length, and preferred to keep such distance - if not more - from her more fragile of acquaintances. Until a better situation came about, a patient would have to do. Surely it couldn’t make things worse than they had already become.

‘I don’t recall mentioning the person in question being ordained Dr, merely a reliable observer for a temporary period of time.’ The stress of the word temporary was not lost on either of them, albeit perhaps unnecessarily forceful in its intonation; Jude’s irascibility had not been relinquished. She pushed on the door, none too subtly, ad waited for him to move. ‘Now are you going to return to your work, or is that all your work has become: a constant questioning of my actions whilst neglecting your own?’

***

Lana perched herself somewhat awkwardly on the rickety wooden chair by the bedside of a sleeping Mary Eunice. Unsure just what was expected of herself, she drew her hands up and down the goose bumps that had risen along the length of her arms, oddly envious of the flimsy blanket draped over the figure she had been told to watch. The infirmary was unexpectedly cold, which couldn’t have been much good for some of the longstanding – a bad turn of phrase, her journalistic mind complained – patients held up there and she found she longed for a threadbare blanket of her own, or even the dingy red cardigan she had become accustomed to. Unfortunately, as she had not been prepared for Jude’s sudden request in the slightest, Lana hadn’t had time to fetch the article of clothing before she was ushered to her first shift. Ever since that night of the storm and what she had seen, it seemed Lana’s preconceptions about the young sister who slept in front of her had been thrown into disarray that even she couldn’t distinguish and to top it all off she had been thrown into the situation herself without any willingness or forewarning.

‘Maybe you’re just as insane as the rest of them.’ Lana murmured to herself as she brushed a strand or two of her own brunette hair from her eyes and frowned at the dry, unkempt state of it. Wendy would have had a fit, once upon a time… Yes, Lana took a certain pride in her appearance, or at least she used to but Wendy had always been the one to nit-pick; a stray hair, a creased lapel, the little things that escaped Lana’s notice while she absorbed herself in her work. Such absorption was what got her where she was in the first place. ‘Maybe that’s what working here just does to a person. What being here does to a person. Worse than when they arrive.’ She mused and found her dark eyes wandered to the arm that lay atop the blanket, still wrapped up in white. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised that you tried to…’ Lana couldn’t quite bring herself to finish the sentence aloud. She watched the rise and fall of the blonde’s chest, all too aware of the quiet that surrounded them as though the pair were all alone, removed from the rest of the world. To an extent, this wasn’t untrue, as they were settled at a distance from all else in the wing, out of sight and amusingly out of mind behind a long stretch of curtain disturbed only to provide sustenance or supervision. Seeing as these duties had been unceremoniously dumped on Lana’s own shoulders she doubted that would occur without her own influence from then on. Still, suicide just didn’t seem plausible although the accident that Jude had insisted upon seemed even less so. Despite the evidence in front of her eyes, of all the people in the building at any given time, Mary Eunice had been the least of expectations. Naïve, perhaps at first, tearful indeed initially, but as much as Lana had grown to dislike the growth of the haughty personality, there were no doubts the young sister had undergone a change, although quick, not so out of place, at least on the exterior. Had it been a façade for this all along? ‘I could put you out of your misery right now…’ Lana leaned forward, on the edge of her seat, for a closer look at the pale slumbering face, surrounded by a halo of light hair. She looked peaceful, beautiful and unaware of Lana’s close proximity. ‘Maybe I should…’ Lana whispered.

Lulled into a false sense of security by the absence of goings on in the infirmary, Lana didn’t expect the eyes – golden, or red or black, anything but the blue-green she had first met – that flashed open with a glare enough to sear her very soul. Or the astounding grasp of the hand that seized the front of her denim dress, jerked Lana so close that she had to steady herself with her hands haphazardly on the bed before she lost her footing. The young nun’s breath breezed across her bare neck with a feverish heat on her flesh.

‘Listen to me.’ It was a snarl more than anything, a gravelly growl at Lana’s ear. The grip of the dress’ neckline nearly choked off her access to oxygen. Instinct suggested she call for help, there had to be someone around to witness what was going on besides herself; if it was her word alone, there was not a chance in hell she would be believed. The instinct was apparently not strong enough however and Lana remained quiet. ‘You will help me. You will help heal this clumsy corpse of flesh, blood and bone or you will see yours bend and break and bleed before I drag you down screaming to the bowls of hell where we belong.’ Fear bubbled uncomfortably in her stomach as the eyes she could see from the corner of her own that glared back at her with such severity showed no sign of a lie. ‘If you so much as let her die, to beg for death would be a privilege.’ Mary Eunice – if it was still here, which Lana was not so certain of – sneered before her fingers that had clawed around the dress slowly released the material and the reporter tried to focus her breathing which had become easier once she was no longer held in a vice-like grip but still uneven with silent dread. Her hands were still set atop the bed in an awkward bid to keep upright but rather than move them of her own accord, Lana stumbled backwards, pushed by an unseen force of some kind, as though a hand had violently shoved her away from the figure in the bed. Her back knocked into the wooden seat she previously occupied which toppled to the floor with a clatter that made her jump. She could have sworn she saw Mary’s eyes return to the blue she knew them to be before they closed and she resumed her restful state – although decidedly less restful, Lana thought. 

Still stunned by the turn of events, Lana had barely managed to speak a word aloud before she was interrupted abruptly by the presence of a judgemental Dr Arden. Unaware that she herself had crept closer to the bed again after being shoved, she hadn’t expected the older man’s hands to roughly shunt her aside out of his way. Somewhere under his breath he grumbled rather liberally his views about leaving useless patients with those clearly in need of better and more competent care. Competent was not a word she would have chosen to describe himself, but she bit her tongue this time around. Arden drew his hand over Mary’s forehead, feeling with the reverse of his palm for the temperature. The expression that fell upon his face showed his displeasure and he mumbled to himself in a disgruntled tone. He seemed unwilling to share any information with Lana, despite her being given the job to supervise, but she supposed that was exactly the reason why he resented her presence so much, more than the average patient who did as they were told. She had no problem receiving his unspoken antipathy, she had a mutual amount for him as she none-too-fondly recalled the shock therapy. From the mutterings under his breath, and every other word, Dr Arden assumed the sudden spike of temperature he felt on the blonde’s skin was the stirrings of a fever, again he pointed the finger of blame unashamedly in Lana’s direction who still stood but a few feet away picking up the chair from the floor. Even if she tried to tell him the truth of what had happened moments before he had walked in, he would have never believed her, or worse turned it around on her and used it as a viable excuse for more sessions of electro shock or solitary. If he had entered the area just a few seconds earlier… But for now it seemed as though she was yet again the only one, the only witness to this strange behaviour, psychotic, suicidal or otherwise…


	5. Chapter 5

In spite of his numerous complaints about the ordeal, Dr Arden was once again convinced to leave. His protestations did not go unheard, furious and rather condescending as they were but much to Lana’s surprise Sister Jude remained resolute and refused to indulge him in the concern of Mary’s best interests or so she said. The gaze of the head nun in her direction had not changed, as severe as ever and clearly disappointed in what must have seemed like lax vigilance on Lana’s part but her own displeasure notwithstanding, Lana was given another unspoken chance if only so Arthur was not.

Lana was left alone with her charge and although hesitant after the last incident, she drew the chair with a scrape across the floor closer again to the bed side. Much to her chagrin the chair was expectantly uncomfortable no matter which way she tried to position herself and resigned to perch on the edge. Sat such a way she had easier access to the small bowl of cool water with the cloth folded beside it as well as being able to reach to mop Mary’s forehead with it without having to shuffle or strain too much. Granted she wasn’t the tallest for her age but that had never really bothered her – besides cases of being underestimated – but she hadn’t been all that aware of it either. Heels often made up for it she supposed. Carried off on a mental tangent as she was whilst she dipped the cloth afresh into the water, she didn’t notice Mary’s eyes flicker open until she had turned back around. After last time, Lana’s muscles stiffened as though she were an animal alert, prepared to be thrown either forward or backwards, whichever direction. Her doe-like eyes narrowed in a bid to seem less fearful, to retain some abstract sense of distrust. Death threats weren’t something to take lightly, particularly from a delirious nun and although Lana had not mentioned the words spoken to anyone – she had hardly had the chance - they still filled her with an unease that ran deep. Having readied herself to face the glare of those devil’s eyes from before, Lana almost breathed an inward sigh of relief and the stiffness of her spine relaxed just a little when she saw that the eyes looking blearily back at her were a hazy shade of blue. If there were flecks of gold, or black, or red – anything too unusual – Lana couldn’t see them and didn’t desire to search. Mary licked her dry lips and Lana almost berated herself for not having a cup of water at hand to offer bar the bowl beside her chair. Lana folded the small cloth in her hand, swept some of the stray blonde bangs from the sister’s forehead, feeling the slight heat beneath her hand before she placed the cloth atop. Mary’s gaze followed her every move and Lana could have sworn she seemed as uneasy as herself.

‘Surprised you’re still here…’ Mary’s voice was quiet, much more like the nervous young woman Lana had first met.

‘Sister Jude…’ Lana tried to explain, folding her hands awkwardly into her lap as she shuffled back on the seat a bit, unsure what to do with them. ‘She told me…’

‘No, no,’ Mary interrupted her understandably with an instinctive slight shake of her head. Jostled by the movement the cloth slipped off where Lana had placed it. Rather than let her pick it up, Lana reached for it instead and replaced it so Mary’s outstretched arm fell back to the bed sheets. On her face was the smallest of smiles but being barely there as it was, Lana was still unsure if it was a genuine expression of gratitude or a smirk at her relegation to slave material. ‘She’s less likely to find you on the warpath if you do what she asks you to…’ The sister stated all too knowingly.

‘I’m not…that’s not…’ The brunette’s attempt at defence faltered, not convincing either of them that she was there for any reason other than to find and stay on the good side of the asylum’s authority. Was there another reason, really?

‘It’s ok. You don’t really want to be here.’ Mary continued and Lana once again couldn’t help but shuffle awkwardly. Was it so obvious? The blonde gave a small sigh; how was it possible to sound so tired with just a breath. ‘Neither do I.’

Lana remained quiet; from what the reporter gathered, she wasn’t just talking about the infirmary. She longed to ask her why. Why she was still here if it all bothered her so much. Why she had come to the asylum in the first place, the last place she expected such a soul to exist. Why she was still here. As much as the asylum may have needed the light, it was always going to be an impossible endeavour for it to thrive in such an environment. Journalistic curiosity peaked in her mind, a desire to know but she also remembered what was said before. The curiosity may have been great, but arguably her dread was just a little greater at least for now. As she pushed all burning questions aside, temporarily, Lana reached for the cloth again. Surprised by how warmed it was already, she took it in fumbling hands.

‘Are you feeling any better?’ In all honesty it felt like a ridiculous question to ask but it had already passed her lips as she dipped the cloth into the cool water.

‘I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore.’ It was a subdued confession if nothing else, oe that Lana found herself relating to. She was by no means the one on suicide watch, she had never considered such an option even in the more desperate of times, but she couldn’t deny there had been moments however fleeting where she questioned whether this whole ordeal would be worth it in the end. It was easy to say to strangers, but it wasn’t always so easy to convince herself in the dark; in the late lonely hours of the night that seemed to last so long. The thought of having such reflections in common with the woman in front of her presented itself with mixed feelings. Absorbed in her own world, Lana hadn’t spared a thought for the staff of the establishment, painted them all with the same brush as it were and swept them aside from her concentration; she had a plethora of things to worry about that did not include which of the nuns were considerate or callous towards those they were meant to help. Locked in her own cell at night, she hadn’t taken into consideration until then how the corridors could be just as eerie when empty of life and yet filled with the echoes of people in pain.

‘That makes two of us…’


	6. Chapter 6

The bang on the door of her cell drew Lana from her thoughts. Since she had been relinquished of her vigilant duties for another night by Sister Jude – although some part of her had almost objected and she told herself over and over it was only a ruse to keep in the woman’s good books not because she actually wanted to stay in that cold room – all she could think about or replay in her mind was Sister Eunice’s abstract behaviour. The best explanation she had come up with was the amalgamation of sleep deprivation, stress and literal shock to her brain had caused her to read far too much into things and her imagination simply tried to placate; it was a tenuous explanation at best. She wasn’t to know that events would only serve to further her confusion.

‘Time for your shower, Miss Winters.’ The voice that called from outside the door was not one that she recognised, just one of many making rounds nevertheless Lana threw the sheet aside from where it had been laid across her lap and got up from the bed. With most of the rooms with access to lukewarm running water used strictly for hydrotherapy purposes, the use of the showers was a luxury not often afforded, and not for a very long duration either. Of course the number of patients that could conceivably cleanse themselves independently under the spray was not considerably large according to those in control who preferred to limit those with any potential risk - no matter how slight - rather than liberate them.

Lana followed the short, somewhat plump woman throughout the maze of corridors to the right room. She was almost envious of the woman, even though she did not know her. Perhaps not envious of her per say, but envious of what it was she got to eat on a daily basis compared to Lana’s own thinning frame… The lady, another sister who had not given her name so she seemed but one of many, then turned to Lana directly and handed over a small folded pile that consisted of fresh clothing and a towel. If this was an indirect repayment for doing as she was told, circa Sister Jude then she certainly had little complaint.

‘I trust you are more than capable of looking after yourself for a few moments; I’ll be back shortly to return you to the common room when you’re done.’ Anonymous Nun stated in a flat tone that seemed neither irritable nor enthusiastic. Without another word, the nun walked away, leaving Lana to revel in her few stolen moments not to mention grateful for the unusual turn of leniency. She made her way inside the chamber, still tentative in case it all turned out to be no more than an elaborate ploy, which she wouldn’t put past several members of the staff. Instead of the likely quiet however as she entered, Lana heard the rush of water already running. Perhaps the plump woman had made a mistake or miscalculated the timing of another patient, Lana was sure even with the leniency given to her, she wouldn’t be so easily allowed to converse with another so far out of sight and earshot. Not wanting to push beyond the limit before she had a chance to enjoy any more, Lana turned back to the door for a second.

‘Excuse me, I think…’Lana called out, but the nun had already gone. Lana hesitated and dropped the fresh clothes and towel folded precariously on one of the metal bars to keep them off the floor. She walked quietly towards where the sound of the shower could be heard, still fully dressed, her curiosity having gotten the better of her. Her breath caught in her throat. Sister Mary Eunice stood under the spray, slender body in full view amongst the steam that rolled and rose from her skin in translucent tendrils. Somewhere in the back of Lana’s mind, she considered this strange as the water was usually too cool for steam…‘You’re not supposed to be here…’ Lana choked out, cursed how feeble her voice sounded when she had much stronger intention in mind. She needn’t have worried about being too quiet, Mary heard. Wet blonde hair trailed over her shoulder as she turned her head at the sound of Lana’s voice and smirked.

‘Oh Miss Winters, we all like to bend the rules now and then, even you,’ the sister replied with a slyness that shuddered down Lana’s spine. ‘Especially you.’ She added with a tone that suggested approval as she glanced Lana up ad down. ‘You always were one to break them.’

‘But why would you…?’ Lana was confused; of all the places to be, why would someone like her use somewhere usually regarded for patients instead of the quarters elsewhere that were bound to be better. If she had the freedom to leave, why didn’t she use it… Whatever the reasons Mary had that she didn’t say, Lana couldn’t help the way her eyes travelled, trailed over the body before her. Took in the hair, the smooth curvature of back, to the toes. It had been so long… and it was too late to hide it. Mary saw the split second look, relished it, unashamedly provoked. ‘Shouldn’t you be in bed?’ Lana tried to recover herself - eyes skirted over the patch of white not on the other woman’s arm but across the side of her abdomen - but the blonde saw right through her.

‘Thoughtful, but evasive…’ Mary Eunice tsk’d with disapproval, turned to face her completely and closed the distance between the pair of them which was much shorter than Lana anticipated. ‘Come now, you’re not normally so shy.’ She savoured the look in Lana’s eyes, wide and dark like a doe paralyzed by indecision. Fear crept up the reporter’s spine like the touch of icy fingers and yet her legs refused to move, kept in place mesmerised by the sauntering figure before her. 

‘Oh, that’s right, your _perversion…_ ’ Mary purred, a finger to her lips as though it were an afterthought. Before Lana was aware of movement, her back hit the wall, that same unseen hand having forced her backwards with much more intensity this time around. The warm, wet form was atop her before even a gasp could pass her lips, arms stretched out either side of her, pinning her to the wall. The distance between them, or lack of, restricted the breath in her chest. She could feel the skin of her cheeks burn; Mary could see, could feel the way her chest instinctually heaved in the effort it took to control herself. And the blonde knew. Her teeth were bared in a grin of pleasure that said plenty. Lana was fighting a battle she had already lost. 

‘Isn’t this what you want?’ Barely above a whisper, her breath so warm at the nape of her neck. ‘I’ve seen the looks, seen the longing in your eyes, don’t deny it.’ The arousal that stirred within her certainly could not and it became harder to suppress. Thoughts of being caught were miles away; far too distracted and easily mislead by the voice and the lips from whence it came. The peal of laughter – it seemed to echo around the room, or was it just inside her head? – would be remembered long after. ‘Little Thredson’s failure of a therapy is getting you so far…isn’t it.’ Mary teased, grin ever present as her wet hands moved away from the wall and long, thin fingers trailed over her, ghosted across fabric and flesh until they pressed onto her shoulders. Warmth and water sunk through the material; stuck to her skin in a way that would have perhaps been uncomfortable had she been aware. In a last meek gesture of defiance Lana lifted her hands in protest, tried to push the woman away but such an act had little effect except to simply provoke the sister to play into her hands. Tendrils of steam drifted into her eyes; she blinked several times to clear her vision. She could have sworn the blonde’s lips played, goaded above hers, drew close enough for Lana to practically taste before they drew away again and stirred the ache within her. Frustrated by temptation – in more ways than one – Lana shifted her hands and pushed again at the blonde who barely moved. Attempt having failed her, Lana drew her hands away to wipe the moisture on the hem of the dress and recoiled at the sight of her fingers wet not with water but with blood. Mary Eunice however didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, if anything her smile grew wider at the brunette’s reaction.

‘Shouldn’t we…shouldn’t I…’ Lana couldn’t find the strength to scream; the stuttered whisper of inquisition alone was effort enough for her tight chest. Her eyes searched for the source of blood on her hands and sees the bandage at the sister’s side is soaked through. Mary shakes her head in response, unfazed and once again her fingers trail down Lana’s arms who shivers under her touch until she has her wrists clasped in a grip fit to bruise. The shorter woman’s legs tremble as she is drawn by the other towards the shower that had continued to run; it takes all energy not to let her knees fold beneath her.

‘Didn’t you come here for a reason, Miss Winters…’ Mary tantalised and pried at the soaked dress that Lana wore. Moments later, it was discarded on the floor tiles. Both of them beneath the spray, Lana didn’t even notice how cold the water became, distracted by the fervour of the form in front of her – the devil left her so weak and wanting…

*

‘5 minutes, Miss Winters!’ A voice, one vaguely recognised as the plump nun that had directed her to the room, called out beyond the door only just heard over the water above the pair of them. Lana was jarred unwillingly back to the reality, unsure of just how much time had slipped away from them.

‘They don’t know…?’ She asked quietly, referred to the other nuns. Part of her refused to let this end.

‘Oh Lana, Lana, Lana…’ Mary sang and Lana looked up – the blonde seemed so much taller so close – expectantly. The devilish girl bared her teeth once more, hands wandered over her like a well-read map now – she knew where to go - as she leaned in close and whispered. ‘Clean yourself up.’ She drew away to the corner of the room where she pulled up a towel, wrapped it around her midriff and lifted up the folded black habit that had been left aside. She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a wink in the reporter’s direction who still stood under the water. That same laughter as before echoed in Lana’s skull as Mary Eunice walked away…


	7. Chapter 7

Lana told no-one of the shower incident, despite how much it plagued her like a constant shadow. The nun had collected her as promised and although the woman was a little scrutinizing of Lana’s dishevelled state – in her mind she must have thought the patient had long enough to make herself presentable to some degree, quite unaware that Lana had rushed to clothe herself only minutes before the door had opened – they had returned to the common room where the all too familiar French tune continued to play over and over. Much to her discomfort, through no fault of his own, Kit had seen her escorted entrance and insisted on asking Lana about her disappearance over the past few days. Distracted in more ways than one, she was unable to give him a reasonable answer. Even the feeble mention of therapy, which she hoped would be enough to satisfy him and stop his questions, nearly had her weak in the knees with the thought of that voice as it whispered like a temptress in her ear. To make matters worse, Lana’s absence wasn’t the only one Kit had picked up on and he was not hesitant to impart his conspiracy theories regarding the very sister she tried so hard to purge from the imprints of her mind.

‘You ok Lana?’ Kit asked, watched the last remains of the mostly untouched cigarette crumble in the brunette’s hand unnoticed. She turned her head towards him at the sound of his voice, drew her gaze away from where she watched the door, focused on the panels, the handle, anything to take her mind off the figure that might have walked through it.

‘What?’ She saw Kit’s furrowed brow and her heart stuttered for a second before she calmed herself; there was no way he could have known. Everybody had something to say inside the asylum, whether in screams or silence, the difficult part was the separation of rumour and fantasy from truth and reality in a place where any and all lines were as blurred as the boundaries of medicine and malpractice.

‘You look hot.’ His statement was so blunt it nearly threw her off guard.

‘You’re a married man last time I checked, Mr Walker.’ Lana retorted, in a bid to cover herself from the mistake of having let her emotions show so openly on her face, although there were only two who knew the true cause and she herself was one of them.

‘No, no, I mean you look flushed or something; red.’ Kit fumbled for defence at her retaliation, although his lop-sided smile not quite full as it was revealed his amusement. He may have been concerned about some of the changes he saw in her demeanour, but her quick wit assured him that all seemed well enough on the outside. ‘You sure you’re feeling ok?’

‘I feel fine.’ She brushed off his concern and stubbed out the useless end of the cigarette into the ash tray on the table. With a nod, Kit said o more on the subject and looked up at the doors at the far end of the room, through which Sister Jude had appeared.

‘Don’t look now, Jude’s on the prowl again,’ he muttered and contrarily Lana did look up to the older woman who caught her sight and stared back. Aware she was wanted, but couldn’t explain such a bargain with the man sat in front of her, Lana looked back at Kit with a wary expression.

‘On second thoughts, I think I better go to the infirmary.’ It was a flimsy excuse at best and even Kit had his doubts at first with her sudden change of mind.

‘But you just said…’ He began to question but Lana shook her head as she stood up from the seat, brushed at a few stray ashes that had drifted onto the hem of her dress to avoid his eye.

‘Don’t want to risk anything in here, not if we want to get out alive.’ If he suspected her of anything false, he didn’t show it; he seemed fairly convinced by her logic which was sound enough. To be in a peak condition of health after living in Briarcliff long was unlikely, but the closest state to it would help aid escape more so than illness which would slow things down; a common cold could become crippling.

‘Fair point,’ he relented before he added, ‘but be careful, Eunice could be anywhere, waitin’ for you.’ The flinch was instantaneous, and Lana had no idea how Kit missed it but was glad that he was as oblivious as he was to such a reaction. If she had thought about that before the shower, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so shocked and let the situation get as far as it did. Then again for all her complaints and mental reprimands, there would always be that small part of her that for lack of a better explanation enjoyed what had happened. And it was that part of her the devil took advantage of, what unnerved every sane cell in her body. Jude watched her from the doorway as Lana made her way over, their agreement unspoken between them but they both knew what was wanted from the other. Without a word, barely even a look just in case some of the more aware patients picked up on the treatment, Lana slipped by through the same door the old nun had entered and suppressed the hammer of her heartbeat in her chest as she made her way towards the very person who would be – for better or worse – waiting for her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest and probably my favourite chapter (after the steamy shower scene) because the dialogue here was so fun to play with. Enjoy.

After navigating the maze of corridors, corners and stairways that were quickly becoming committed to memory – yet another pro on the list of why this arrangement was still a good idea despite the doubts – Lana found herself at the infirmary for another stint of vigilance. As always, the moment she arrived one of the nurses, for lack of a better term for that was their duty, looked her from head to toe with scepticism. Once it was confirmed she had no sign of illness or injury that needed attending, she was left alone, a rather neglectful practice on their part in her opinion. She could hardly blame them; the ones that did care often had more severe cases to turn to and the ones that didn’t wouldn’t have been all that bothered with what she did as long as they weren’t to blame. On her way past one of the beds, Lana tapped the shoulder of the nurse stood at the foot.

‘Excuse me, where do you keep the…’ Lana began; she was interrupted by a rather muffled reply.

‘On the trolley.’ With her back to Lana and her hands filled with a bundle of bed sheets in front of her face – Lana wasn’t sure just what it was she was meant to be doing with them – the nurse’s voice was distorted and she had to ask again.

‘The what?’

‘Everything is on the trolley over in the corner there, that’s all we have at the moment.’ The nurse replied with a frustrated sigh and gave a brief gesture that was more just a fling of her hand in the right direction.

‘Oh, right, thank you…’ Lana said quietly and left the woman to her work as she went over to the supplies. The trolley was in a disgusting state. Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the clearly used, then discarded, items cast haphazardly across the top and in various dishes which had stains or fluid already in them. Most of the drawers were also half empty, anything of use already taken or already used and replaced in all their horror. Lana managed to salvage half a roll of gauze, thankfully unused, that had been stowed in a corner of a lower shelf, along with a bowl of questionable cleanliness and a rather blunt looking metal instrument of unknown purpose. She stashed the instrument carefully in her shoe so as not to cut her foot on it as she knelt down at the trolley as though she still searched the shelves and drawers, then deposited the gauze in the bowl, stood up straight and headed to the far end of the infirmary. Just as she neared the furthest bed and pulled back the make-shift curtain, she heard Mary’s voice as she muttered beyond. At least Lana knew she wasn’t about to be surprised again. 

‘Damn mortals, why won’t this just heal,’ Mary whined with petulant frustration. Lana stood and waited with her scavenged bits and pieces. The young sister was sat upright on the bed, with her back to Lana, the sheets in a tangled bundle over and around her lower half whilst her nightgown was risen up above her midriff. On the end of the bed lay the remnants of the old wrap from her arm which from the look of her arm had been cleanly replaced. One hand held the material of the gown to keep it out of the way while the other fiddled with the dressing on her side which given the state it was in had not been changed since the earlier ordeal. Although Lana couldn’t see exactly from behind, she assumed it must have been a mess by that point. Mary gave another dissatisfied growl. Lana almost decided then and there to leave the woman to her own devices and return to the common room but then Jude would find out and she would only have been in more trouble which she could do without. So, as was becoming all too natural for her, the reporter threw caution to the wind and made her way around the bed to the old wooden chair.

‘May I?’ Lana asked as she sat down, perched the bowl in her lap and waited for the hunched over form in front of her to co-operate.

‘May you what?’ The snarl wasn’t so bad once she had prepared herself for it, Mary still didn’t look up though, and the quieter tone of her voice softened the verbal blow somewhat. Amongst the fall of blonde hair, Lana caught a glimpse of the mess the dressing had become. Enough to know it needed changing.

‘Can I see…’ she tried again, kept her voice low and level in a bid to seem much calmer than she truly felt. This time, Mary did look up at her, eyes filled with unbridled accusation.

‘So you can finish what she started?’ Mary snapped and Lana instinctively shuffled backwards, a move which she was sure would have made the other woman. It was obvious how much pleasure she gained from the fear her presence instilled in the brunette whether or not either of them tried to hide it. Had she not been in such a mood already, Mary might have sensed it as it lingered quietly under the calm and collected exterior Lana put on show. Lana herself wasn’t sure whether it was a good or bad thing that her first assumption was harm and not help although she supposed what she had said before on the possibility of putting an end to misery had come back to bite her after all.

‘No, I don’t…’ Lana tried to placate, backtrack, say something to calm down the young woman but whatever she said seemed to have the adverse effect and Mary cut across before she could have continued either way.

‘Don’t think I don’t hear the two of you.’ She spat and Lana’s brow furrowed in mild confusion. To whom was she referring? It could have been anyone. Lana didn’t know what it was that Mary assumed she did wrong because it could have been her conversing with anyone. Still the young nun looked away again, and Lana was grateful for the escape from such a deprecating gaze. Jude may have been severe, or disapproving but her looks were mild by comparison to the fire of this one. Whether in anger, or something else entirely, the heat was always felt beneath her skin, bubbled her blood. ‘And you were a fine help earlier, you and your wandering hands…’

‘That was your own fault, I think you’ll find.’ Lana retorted. Surprised by the reporter’s change in nerve, Mary looked up at her again but some of the heat of anger had given way to that other, much more dangerous emotion that played in her gaze.

‘Oh really…’ She said rather flatly which only served to provoke Lana exactly how she wanted. The brunette stiffened in her seat, sat up with a straighter spine. The smug look on Mary’s face incensed her to no end and despite her earlier caution she desired to be rid of it.

‘And last time I checked you weren’t complaining.’ Lana shot back and Mary’s brow quirked upward. Nevertheless, the blonde was only all too happy to return a reminder.

‘Neither were you.’

Lana scowled at her, well aware that she was right. If she had truly wanted to, she could have done something, surely could have done something. But she hadn’t; she had let the devil have her day and couldn’t deny the consequences. Mary gave a non-committal shrug in return and brushed her hair aside as she looked down again. Lana leaned forward and stretched a hand out, and almost expectedly Mary’s own hand rose in order to swipe her away.

‘Let me…’ It was much more pleading than the forceful tone she had intended, but miraculously her strange amalgamation of demand and vulnerability seemed to work and Mary’s hand dropped away again. Lana shuffled a little closer on the chair until she was perched on the very edge and leaned down for a closer inspection. She was by no means a medical professional of any kind, the worst she had ever had to deal with in the last few years was a paper cut or two, apart from the one incident when she had tried to make that one meal for Wendy and…she shook the memory from her mind, she had to free herself of the distraction.

The dressing was as much a mess as she thought, smudged thickly with brownish red, some dark yellow stains and although it had dried since, the water from earlier had not done any wonders. Tentatively she peeled at the dressing and pried it away with a cringe as the wounded flesh was revealed. She wasn’t sure which was worse, her own imagination and what it had conjured up to compensate for what she couldn’t see or the real thing up close in gruesome detail. She grasped somewhat blindly with her other hand for something to clean with, then recalled with an inward she hadn’t brought anything of the sort from the trolley.

‘What did you…?’ Lana asked quietly, her question faltered but it needed no ending.

‘Scissors.’ Mary replied sharply. The word cut the air like the very item and sent a shiver down Lana’s spine. ‘Caught me while I was unaware, the stupid bitch. If I hadn’t moved…’ The nun muttered above her.

‘Someone did this to you?’ That was certainly not what Lana had heard, the word that went around the institution, but the way she spoke of the third person, the brunette wasn’t going to assume if the one who evidently knew the truth was right in front of her. Then again, she couldn’t exactly gauge the honesty of anything the nu may have said either, she took all with a pinch of salt.

‘You think I’d give someone the chance?’ Mary scoffed as though it were the most impossibly plausibility in the world. Out of the corner of her eye, Lana saw the exposed flesh across the other side that was not torn or damaged, the muscles of pale abdomen tense. Skin so pale, had it ever seen the light of day? Had anyone but herself had such a view as this? She shook her head free of the thoughts that had all too swiftly begun to form, surprised at the lack of snarky or sly comment from Mary.

‘It looks painful…’ She tried to be gentle, or at least careful, with her hands around the damaged skin. The torn gash looked unpleasant, but she had no extensive medical knowledge to tell her how deep the wound went.

‘It hurts…’ Mary’s quiet comment pulled her away, drew her hands away for fear that it was her fault that was referred to. She didn’t want to end up on the floor as a result of that force again, whatever it was. After having waited for a reply, yet received neither anger nor sarcasm, Lana looked up and searched for the blonde’s eyes behind her bangs.

‘Sister?’ Silence was unnerving. She showed no sign of having heard her title at all. ‘Mary?’ Lana asked. Perhaps she stepped over an unspoken boundary or two, having used the young nun’s first name when they were hardly on such terms but it didn’t change anything. Lana’s hand touched her cheek, drew Mary’s face towards her own just like Wendy used to do when she wanted her attention. The skin was warm beneath her fingertips, ever so soft. ‘Mary, you can tell me…’ Lana pushed softly. For all she knew it was her only chance for answers. ‘What’s going on?’ The answers she desired however, were to elude her again as the world was thrown into a sickening angle. The clatter of the bowl as it hit the floor sounded distant to her ears. In a twisted role reversal that took only seconds to achieve, Lana found herself pinned once again, her back atop the bed as she lay beneath Mary Eunice.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ The scowl was as fierce as ever. Lana’s hand, the one that had previously touched the blonde’s cheek was pinned above her, her arm bent at an awkward angle as she tried to alleviate the pressure whilst Mary held her wrist down in a vice-like grasp that was sure to bruise.

‘You had no objections before,’ Lana tried to cover herself, albeit in a rather sloppy manoeuvre but she took her chance. The devil did indeed take the bait, but unfortunately for Lana did not let go. Instead she ran with it. Lana should have guessed she would play with her food before she devoured it.

‘So that’s how you want to play, is it?’ It was the nun’s turn to lean over her charge who writhed and pulled at her arm to be freed from hot steel fingers. The difference in height may not have been all that much when stood opposite one another, but as they were and acute as it was, the feeling of threat increased tenfold as the taller of the two bore down on the other with a grin. Lana felt the weight across her body, felt the heat of another person so close to herself. There was no cool water this time.

‘Oh god,’ Lana moaned, closed her eyes. Why had no-one heard anything and checked on the two of them? 

‘God and I, we don’t really get along,’ the low voice was much closer than Lana had anticipated and her eyes burst open to find Mary’s but a breath away. ‘We don’t always see eye to eye.’ She added with a short sharp laugh.

‘That’s alright with me,’ Lana replied somewhat breathlessly; again came the laugh that haunted her so. She had no luck as she tried to pry Mary’s fingers from about her other wrist with her free hand while she spoke. But as she had hoped the blonde was distracted, her gaze so intent as she nipped painfully at the skin of Lana’s neck. So she took her chance. Lana’s free hand trailed down the length of the blonde’s torso, found where the hem of the gown had ridden up against her thigh. The other woman chuckled; hot breath swept across her clavicle and tendrils of blonde hair tickled the flesh exposed where Mary’s fingers had deftly pried at the loose neckline of Lana’s standard patient garb until bare skin met the cool air. Whereas Lana had been grateful for the change of clothes, the dress she had been given as replacement was too large for frame. The material hung in places and just did not fit well in others; a fact Mary clearly used to her advantage. By comparison, the nightgown that Mary wore was intended to be a much more appropriate, some may say conservative fit but was still loose enough for Lana’s hand to run beneath the folds. She made her way past the blonde’s hips, who rocked into the touch. Scarcely able to breathe, her fingertips found the wounded flesh beneath the fabric and thrust with all the energy she had. Taken by surprise in the midst of the moment, Mary cried out with pain – or was it rage? – and in the split second that she let go of Lana’s wrist and backed off, the reporter drew her released arm towards herself and rolled over.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Mary snarled with absolute venom and had the other woman been paying attention to her anger, she may have taken note of the repetition, the almost replay of the same phrase she had said earlier. There was no answer from the brunette save for a rush of air and a dull thud. Lana had misjudged the distance and fell to the floor over the other side of the bed, thudding hard onto the solid ground but at least she was free. There was a light tinkle of metal as the instrument she had temporarily forgotten about fell from the inside of her shoe and skittered a little way beneath the metal bed frame. Rather than stand, she turned and reached, grasped the metal between her fingers. It was warmer than she expected, but it had been kept underfoot.

‘Boo.’ Mary’s face appeared at the other side of the bed frame. Lana instinctively flinched, gripped the metal tighter in her hand as she edged out from under the bed. She stumbled to her feet and held out the pseudo-weapon. She could only hope the blonde, whose eyes watched her every move, could not see the way her hand shook. There was no longer a humorous or teasing aura around the nun as there had been and the palpable anger returned a deep unsettled fear Lana thought she had left behind.

‘I’m here to help you, but now I’m not so sure I should have agreed…’ Lana commented which only made Mary smile. But the smile was not one of humour and the absence of benevolence in her eyes only made the expression seem crueller.

‘Perhaps you shouldn’t have.’ She retorted just as drily. The pair were kept apart only by the bed between them. Lana had never been so grateful for the creaky metal frame and the small distance it created. ‘Seeing as you’ve been so helpful already.’ Pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Mary continued as she gestured to the stains on the fabric. She pulled at the hem of her nightgown so it once more retained her lower modesty and brushed at the dishevelled, creased state of the material.

‘Jude wasn’t the only one who asked for my help.’ Lana reminded her and if she hadn’t been so intent on keeping her distance, she might have crossed her arms or adopted a much more confident stance. The metal clutched in her fingers gleamed in the dim light and comforted her somewhat, made her feel less open, less defenceless. She didn’t let herself dwell on just how useful or useless it might be.

‘Yes well, it wouldn’t be the first time you failed.’ Mary taunted.

‘If I’m not good enough, then why not just let me leave.’ Lana gestured to the curtain but Mary shook her head with a smile.

‘Oh no,’ she said with a tone that was far too calm, shook her head again. ‘I’m not done with you yet.’

‘Find someone else.’

‘There is no-one else.’ The sound of grinding set Lana’s teeth on edge as the bed, frame, mattress and all scraped across the floor in a rapid turn. Lana nearly leapt aside as she tried to avoid being smashed into the wall by the lumbered mass as it moved of its own accord. The metal frame trembled with the force of its collision. As if that wasn’t enough, the bowl Lana had carried over shot past her, missed impact by mere inches before it struck the same wall and landed overturned atop the bed. Distracted, Lana was seconds too late when she realised the distance she had been banking on that kept Mary apart from her was no longer there. The blonde was upon her before she even had time to turn and the two stood in a stalemate. Both waited for the other to make a move, neither of them did. Once again, the height difference served to increase Lana’s discomfort as Mary – as close as she was – towered over her but there was no humour or teasing in her eyes only intense hunger. And Lana was to be the one devoured. ‘No-one else I want.’ Lana raised the weapon but with Mary’s hand on her same arm who pushed back with just as much force, neither of them moved. The blade was balanced between their flesh, although it touched neither. The momentum of the opposing pressures caused their hands to tremble under the wait for whoever would let go first, whoever would give in. ‘Go on.’ Mary goaded and Lana scowled back. ‘See if you can. See if you’re faster, stronger than I am.’

Immersed in the moment both of them had failed to take into consideration the noise of their struggle and any attention it attracted. One of the nurses, thin as a twig with a long face to match as though her whole self had been rolled out with one of the pins in the bakery, pulled back the curtain that separated them from the rest of the ward.

‘I thought I heard…what on earth is going on here?’ Neither of them wished to be the first to pull away, wary of what the other might do given the chance but the nurse stood beside them like a lamb oblivious to the presence of wolves. The willow-y woman looked at the pair with an expression of blatant shock and seemed as though if someone were to only breathe on her she would fall over. But without an explanation of some kind, she wasn’t going to leave. As if in an unspoken form of unity, both Lana and Mary dropped their hands away from one another at the same time; the metal instrument fell from Lana’s grasp and the tinkling sound as it hit the ground drew the nurse’s attention which had previously been unaware. Lana placed her foot on top of it before the nurse could make out what it was and kicked it backwards where it skittered below the bed. ‘What was that, Miss Winters…?’ The lady asked with an expression that probably should have been concern or curiosity, but honestly just looked like a dumbfounded horse.

‘Just a screw I suppose, doesn’t matter.’ Lana replied in a bid to dissuade the woman from further questions. Over the nurse’s shoulder she saw the smug expression on Mary’s face who seemed to find it all too entertaining that the brunette was lying on her behalf. The expression did not last long however as the lady caught Lana’s gaze and turned herself so she faced the young nun, who instantaneously feigned innocence about the whole ordeal. The smile may have mislead the wisp of a woman but it made Lana almost sick to her stomach to know the predator that really lurked behind it. Some people were so wilfully blind, refused to believe in even the possibility of evil if it stood before them because they just didn’t want to look hard enough to see it for what it is.

‘Sister, what are you doing up?’ The woman only meant well, but Lana frowned; she knew such effort was but a lost cause, one way or another. ‘You should be in bed,’ the woman reprimanded in what she supposed was meant to be a stern tone of voice but was tame by the comparison of Jude’s rebukes or Mary’s rage .

‘I felt so useless just lying there, it seemed like a good idea to stretch my legs.’ Mary replied with a smooth shrug of her shoulders and as if to emphasise her point she lifted the bottom of her gown a little and stretched her leg, rolled her ankle. The nurse balked a little at the sudden reveal of flesh – a rather uncharacteristic act from the young sister so she thought - but she recovered herself as she looked away and brushed down the creases of her apron. 

‘Yes, well,’ the nurse said in a disdainful manner. ‘You won’t do yourself any favours if you strain yourself, you should know this.’

‘I’m aware of that, sister.’ Lana could sense a tension that lingered in Mary’s voice; the tall blonde made no attempt to hide precisely how much she didn’t like the condescension of the nurse who thought she knew better than herself. Lana smirked a little, amused that Mary knew then how it felt to be talked down to in such a way. Mary dropped the hem of her gown again and once the material was no longer bundled up in her grasp, the nurse noticed the stains.

‘What happened to your gown?’ Her eyes widened with an inquisitiveness that Mary ignored as she looked over the nurse’s shoulder to meet Lana’s eyes again. The poor woman seemed little more than a pig stuck in the middle but perhaps she should count herself lucky that there was to be no pork on the menu tonight, Lana thought with disdain as those eyes, so light yet so dark found hers.

‘Miss Winters was just about to help me change my dressing, sister, isn’t that right?’ Forced into a verbal corner, Lana nodded her head in agreement. She couldn’t offer much more; as much as she tried to deny such a thought, the devil of a woman would always have the upper hand as long as Lana was regarded only as a patient, a lunatic, instead of a person. Her words alone wouldn’t matter to them. But some day, she would change that. It would be her own words which brought Briarcliff, and all those a part of it, to their knees. The sister meanwhile seemed satisfied, at least a little. But not quite enough.

‘Oh, I see…That still doesn’t explain some of the noise…’ The nurse pushed and looked about herself as if she searched for culprit that may reveal themselves if she looked hard enough. Mary rolled her eyes, fed up with the intrusion. As much as she wanted the woman to stay if only to prevent any further accidents, Lana knew the nurse couldn’t serve as a human shield forever. Hiding behind another woman’s skirts was not part of any plan and as much amusement as it may have given the devilish blonde to see her so, Lana refused to believe herself to be so cowardly. Whatever it was that had developed between them, whatever it was, was between them alone. Although their reasons differed, Lana also found herself desiring the intruder to leave.

‘I was restless,’ Mary said with a vague gesture with her hands, a sort of half-hearted shrug.

‘She got carried away, I promise I won’t let it happen again.’ Lana said simultaneously, and the nurse looked between the two of them before she turned on Lana again.

‘You best not, or I may take up a word or two with Sister Jude about her rather premature judgement with you.’ Her brow rose with a look of scepticism; she had no qualms about having to do just that.

‘You do that.’ Mary muttered snidely and the nurse was flummoxed by the spiteful attitude of the blonde.

‘Is that everything sister?’ Lana asked, tried to push her once again and take the woman’s attention away.

‘I suppose it is…just…keep the noise to a minimum would you? Have some consideration for the other patients, you are not alone here,’ the woman rebuked and Lana equally disliked the obvious condescension. Of course they weren’t the only ones, she was well aware of that, it was everyone else who wasn’t. Had they not made such noise as the woman suggested, they probably would have not been interrupted at all and left to their own devices. Left to tear each other’s throat out. Figuratively speaking. Or not… ‘And sister please try to get some rest, it’ll do you some good.’ She added with a glance at Mary. Honestly it was a mystery how the woman hadn’t made herself dizzy with such back and forth between them. If she had stepped back a little she probably could have addressed them at the same time, but she seemed determined to round upon one or the other.

‘Yes, yes.’ The blonde dismissed her opinion with a wave of her hands, which left the nurse confused by the normally polite sister’s rudeness. The desire to push the woman away with those hands was palpable, in fact Lana had little doubt if she put her mind to it that Sister Eunice could have snapped the willow-y woman like a twig. She was well aware of what those hands could do. 

‘I’m sorry sister, she’s not herself right now.’ Lana defended which produced a sharp bark of laughter on Mary’s behalf and made the poor thin nurse jump from her skin who hadn’t expected it in the slightest. ‘I mean, she’s still not feeling well.’

‘I can see that.’ She brushed at herself again in a bid to recover herself from the embarrassment, turned away from Mary’s smirk and looked solely at Lana. ‘Well, I shall leave you to it.’

‘Thank you.’ It was an unusual experience to say the least, the mutual relief the both of them felt, albeit for different reasons as the woman turned away and pulled at the curtain. Just before she left however, she turned her head over her shoulder one last time and spoke to neither in particular.

‘But if you could move the bed back when you’re done.’ Their – or rather Mary’s - little act of rearrangement hadn’t gone unnoticed after all. The nurse wasn’t as oblivious as they thought; she pulled the curtain back the rest of the way and left the two of them as they were. Almost immediately, once the woman was out of sight, out of earshot, each and every one of Lana’s muscles tensed in expectation. If anything she had expected Mary to take her chance as soon as the opportunity was given to pick up where they left off. But the blonde merely walked over to the bed where it had been shoved, brushed at the blanket and sat down on the edge. Lana turned so that her whole body faced her and regarded the woman with a dubious glance.

‘So no attempt to kill me now?’ She asked, though she refused to let the inner relief show upon her face. The constant tension did nothing to ease her mind which was already dealt its fair share of fatigue as she tried to survive each endless day within the asylum intact. As she had done with the nurse, Mary rolled her eyes and shook her head before she responded as though what she said were the most obvious thing in the world and Lana was but a fool for not having thought it herself.

‘Just because she left doesn’t mean there aren’t others like her listening.’ She said with evident disdain. ‘And I could do without the questions. For now.’ She added with a small smirk after she saw the brunette frown. She pulled up the edge of the gown again and Lana could not help but wonder just how often she planned to reveal her flesh in such a way; she certainly seemed to have no qualms about confidence that was for sure. As Lana made no move from where she stood still, Mary leaned across the bed and picked up the roll of gauze that had fallen once she had moved the overturned bowl aside. She seemed to spot the leftover dressings from before, regarded them with something akin to repugnance – an unusual expression for her – then decided to turn the bowl right side up and deposit them inside. No doubt Lana would be the one to carry them away once they were done, not that her eyes had been focused on Mary’s fidgeting fingers…If the garment she wore had stretched across her abdomen any more…Surely it hadn’t been so thin…

‘You didn’t seem to care about that when you had me on the bed before,’ Lana disputed and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. She would have driven her eyes away, but there was little else to look at with such invested interest in the confined space – when had it begun to feel small again? - not to mention it was more than likely Mary would have called her out on cowardice had she looked away from the woman whilst she argued.

‘Who are they more likely to believe, a naïve little nun or the homosexual who tried to seduce her?’ The woman said with a smile that was much too smug for Lana’s liking. With her arms crossed as they were, and the look of sheer exasperation written upon her face, had she been a little younger Lana would have looked the picture of a petulant child in a war with another. Yet again she was the one on the losing side. ‘To kill you on the other hand, even an accident, is a little harder to explain. There are those who would question everything.’ Mary added; her eyes flashed with her blatantly disgruntled slant at Sister Jude. The one of the receiving end of the attitude was ill-concealed. Mary then regarded her with a tilted look, pondered her thoughts for a moment, and then held out the roll towards Lana expectantly. ‘Now are you going to do your job or not?’ Although she was obviously reluctant, Lana caved at the smirk offered her and tried to ignore how conceited it seemed as she sat down, beside her this time, on the bed and took the roll from her hands. Despite the ample opportunity on Mary’s part, neither of them spoke a word to one another until the task was done. Or at least as done as it could have been. Mary regarded the bandage with a judgemental eye as Lana got up from the bed again, no doubt desiring to put space between them where there had been so little. The blonde picked the length of frayed end, the excess, between her fingers. ‘What? No scissors to cut this?’

‘There weren’t any…’ It was no lie. At least it may not have been. Lana shook her head; she couldn’t recall having seen any of the sort when she had rummaged through the trolley of items previously and there were none in the ‘room’. They must have been needed elsewhere, all used for another nurse or another nun or someone else trying to kill…

‘Use your murder weapon then.’ So straightforward it almost didn’t process in the reporter’s mind.

‘What?’

‘You could use some practice, if you’re going to try.’ She should have known the sort of answer she would have received; the condescending remark was not much of a surprise after all.

‘This is the thanks I get?’ Lana scoffed with equal measure. Nevertheless after a beat of silence she found herself knelt down on the floor as she reached under the bed frame for wherever the metal piece had scuttled when she kicked it away from the nurse. About to inwardly curse herself for having kicked it too far, possibly out of reach, her fingers touched the cool surface and drew it out. She looked at it pensively as she stood up. ‘You know, it wouldn’t be hard for me to tell them that I couldn’t help you. That the cost of the injury you inflicted on yourself was just too much….’ The voice was right beside her ear; she had gotten so close in silence.

‘I said if you were to try. I never said you would succeed.’


	9. Chapter 9

Maybe she should have tried. Tried again. There was a lot of anger after all, stored away in the recesses of her mind. And an absence of understanding. Why had she been so antagonised, why had let herself get so worked up, let the blonde creature get under her skin so much? The woman knew the effect she had, she relished in it, the way Lana squirmed and shivered and submitted. To curse the woman out of sight would never be enough. She should have followed through with it, stopped the taunts for good with action. Who knew when she would get another chance, and whether or not it would be taken. The heat was always too much, one way or another, just too damn much…

‘…Lana, are you listening to me?’ Dr Thredson’s voice filtered through her reverie and her eyes slowly focussed again on the gaze that emanated from behind the thick lenses of his glasses with concern. His brow was furrowed in a thoughtful way and Lana wondered just how long she had wandered away from his words to cause such an expression to appear.

‘I’m sorry, what?’ Having drifted off from the conversation prior, she couldn’t be sure if he had said anything before then. If it was at all possible to do so, she could have sworn his frown furrowed deeper.

‘You seem distracted today, Lana,’ he said and gently placed his hand upon her leg to focus her attention, draw it back to him through the means of a more physical connection. As informal as he tried to seem, as close as he tried to be, there was still a fairly clinical distance that lingered. His touch felt cool through the thin material, dry and cold compared to the last touch she had felt there, in that same place not too long ago… ‘Is there something on your mind?’ Isn’t there always.

‘Not at all doctor…’ she assured him though her gaze drifted to his hand upon her ad remained there. Had he always been so pale, or was it just the light? The veins that stood out across the back of his hand looked a dismal grey-blue, thick and brutish. She imagined the blood was slow, steady, as calm and reserved as his own exterior. Certainly not the quickened pulse of those hands she remembered, the jolt of a heartbeat so alive, like fire beneath the flesh. Or had that just been her own…

‘You know you can tell me.’ He pressed on, his voice as tender as ever ad he gave her leg a light squeeze of his hand.

‘There’s nothing to tell,’ still she denied him. He was only trying to help and she knew that but with the shadow that followed her non-stop, it really was a case of one step forward, two steps back. She wouldn’t change, she had always been stubborn enough to think so. Now she knew she couldn’t change. Even if she had ever wanted to, god forbid. She needed him to believe, she needed him for the way out and she tried for him, she really did. But she was haunted by a figure either exorcism or excess drugs could get rid of. ‘I just…haven’t been getting much sleep lately.’ Lana rubbed her eyes, dots and flashes burned behind the lids as she kneaded them with her fingers. When she had opened her eyes again.

‘Perhaps I could help you with that…’ His look of sympathy, the one that danced in his eyes when she reopened hers might have been a comfort. If her mind had had long enough to process it.

‘Is everything alright here Dr Thredson?’ As though Lana’s thoughts had conjured her very presence, Mary had appeared just behind the seat in which he sat, in full view of Lana and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘Nothing I cannot deal with sister.’

‘Everything’s fine.’ Thredson and Lana had spoken simultaneously, one decidedly more nonchalant than the other. He turned his head back to look at her, surprised by her suddenness and as such missed the look from Mary that was shot over his shoulder that Lana lowered her eyes to avoid. Oliver, then having assumed her skittish nature was through fault of his own gave her leg another reassuring squeeze before he turned back to Mary. He had meant for it to be reassuring at least, but it no longer felt that way when she could feel Mary’s eyes burn into her.

‘Shouldn’t you be…?’ He began though it was obvious as to what he was going to say and she finished for him.

‘In bed? Honestly, if I spent a second longer there, I’d be as useless as the majority of people here are already.’ She scoffed and his brow furrowed a little at the slant he had not expected from the young woman. The opinion may have been somewhat fair, he supposed, with some of the more severe patients, but still he had not anticipated such a blunt view from the young woman. He put it down to the fact that he did not know the woman well enough and therefore no right to judge her point of view so soon. The two of them had barely spoken as it was, he knew her more through what he had heard from others. He considered asking Lana her opinion once the woman had left the two of them alone… But the wink of Mary’s eye caught him from his thoughts as she added, ‘a little physical therapy never hurt anyone, now did it Doctor?’

‘No, I suppose not.’ Was that a flinch he had just seen from the corner of his eye? A subtle movement of discomfort on Lana’s part? Or had he just not been concentrating…Mary too was looking at her and not him, even though it was with him that she spoke. But in her eyes was an emotion of an entirely different kind… ‘If I may ask, how are you feeling sister?’ He asked and drew the nun’s attention away from Lana again as she gave him a small smile. ‘I hope you don’t mind me expressing my concern, but since I heard of your accident…’

‘Never better, thank you oliver’ she cut across him, didn’t let him finish again. Of course she had no need for his sympathy or concern. The smile she gave him did not seem to reach her eyes, and just as well dr thredson himself seemed unsure. It wasn’t possible to tell whether he read too much into the look or not, but his gaze lingered on Mary a little longer with an aura of disbelief about him. Lana merely observed as the two judged each other without a word; nothing need be said when a stiffened spine, a forced smile, an uneasy look said it all for them. Perhaps it was all a façade, perhaps he knew more of the contact her and mary shared than they were aware of, at that moment Lana couldn’t tell. Each hand had played their poker face and waited for the other’s to drop.

‘Yes well, you do seem to have the misfortune of many an accident here sister, especially regarding patients.’ Another glance, and he rephrased. ‘Some patients. I’d like to hope such instances haven’t taken their toll so much on your mental wellbeing as they have on your physical health.’ Much as she had done when the nurse had inquired before, Mary merely waved away his interest with the gesture of her hands. As blasé as her actions were however, her tone of voice had taken on an edge that had become all too familiar to Lana.

‘While you know I fully appreciate your concern good dr, I assure you, I’m more than mentally sound. I need no test to prove to me what I am already fully aware of.’ Mary walked around the side of his chair and for a moment it looked as though she were about to confront him. However, she continued around until she had crossed the distance and ended up – much to Lana’s discomfort – right behind her. Even the separation of the arm of the chair between them did not last as the demure nun perched atop it, close enough for Lana’s arm to brush her lower back. Lana pulled her own arm away into her lap almost immediately at the contact, a move which did not go unnoticed by Thredson although he made no comment. Mary meanwhile continued her verbal tirade against his borderline accusation. ‘And while it’s true some patients may be more difficult to handle than others…’ Lana felt her hand as she placed it on her shoulder, the hot nearly bruising grip of each of her fingers. It was an odd contradiction to Thredson’s touch and for a second she was torn between the two. The cool detachment or the heated desire. She felt as though she were a plaything, held between two creatures who wanted to claim her as their own. The more possessive of the two won out and Thredson withdrew while Mary’s hand remained. ‘I’m still here, and that is not going to change any time soon.’ How no-one noticed, Lana would never know as although Mary kept the one hand with which she continued to gesture in plain sight of the good psychiatrist opposite while she spoke, her other slipped between the back of the chair, down from Lana’s shoulder, across her spine and further downwards… A teasing touch that screamed at Lana to lean back into it or leap away. Thredson, distracted in conversation by Mary, didn’t notice her squirm.

‘Evidently so, sister, pardon my previous assumption.’ He continued, although he appeared to bring the conversation to an end. He conceded to the blonde, without any more antagonism and settled himself back into the headspace he needed to continue the conversation he had begun with Lana before they had been interrupted. ‘Clearly you are more than most give you credit for. Now if you’ll excuse us…’

‘Yes, I should let you get back to whatever it was the two of you were discussing…’ Mary nodded in agreement to Thredson before she looked down at Lana. She raised her hand and patted the woman’s shoulder as though she expressed sympathy with a mild expression. Lana didn’t even have to look at her to know that it wasn’t real. In fact she kept her eyes trained to the floor, tried to rid her mind of all the thoughts those fingers conjured… ‘If you’re sure…although your patient here is looking a little flustered.’ Lana was sure if she looked up she would have seen no sign of sympathy, only the smugness that she knew lurked beneath. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t sit there any longer and let the other woman just pluck and pull and provoke her. The urge to push her away was so great…

‘Lana, are you…?’ dr Thredson had taken note of Lana’s indeed rather flushed expression, although the cause of it confused him. Before he could ask her though, even enquire as to whether she was alright, the woman in question had stood up from the chair opposite him.

‘I’m sorry Dr Thredson, can we finish this another time?’ It wasn’t really a question, merely politeness on her part as she attempted to excuse herself from the room, from the presences about her that threatened to strangle or swallow her whole.

‘But…’ he tried to oppose her leaving, but she ignored him and straitened the edges of the cardigan she wore.

‘I have to go.’ And with that – and without another look at either Thredson or Mary Eunice – she walked away and out of the common room as swiftly as her feet would allow short of drawing attention.

‘How strange…’ Dr Thredson murmured as he looked after her until the door closed behind her and she was no longer in sight, their therapy session most definitely postponed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second to last chapter, folks.

It was late at night when they met again, or at the very least the evening had begun to give way to true darkness. It always seemed to be late. The staff had begun their switchover between those that worked in the day and those that haunted the graveyard shift. Lana never hid her envy for those so free to come and go as they pleased, who witnessed the horrors between the walls but could forget them once the clock struck time and they returned to whatever awaited them in the real world again. Sleep was once again a hard game to play, and she wandered the halls with weary bones but a wired mind. Admittedly she had taken a detour or two, not quite ready to return to her cell and succumb to the solitude that was by no means silent, even at night, but always just as suffocating. After the incident in the common room earlier in the day, Lana had been thankful that Thredson hadn’t followed up on why she had left so suddenly in the midst of their conversation. 

As for Mary Eunice she had made it her priority to avoid the woman for as long as possible. A plan which had worked out in her favour up until that last moment where she spotted the young woman just a few metres down the hall. It was too late to turn back though, as if she could sense her presence at such a distance, the sister had looked up and caught Lana’s gaze. As much as Lana wanted to escape, not be confronted by the woman again, that same hall she stood in was the direct route she needed to take in order to get to her cell, and she wasn’t confident enough about the layout of the rest of the building at that point to successfully plan another way that didn’t involve having to face the sister. It crossed her mind then, that perhaps that was the reason she was in that hallway then anyway, perhaps she had been on the way to her cell thinking Lana was already there… Lana shook her head free of the thoughts; they seemed selfish, stupid even. She had allowed the woman to get under her skin too many times and so she thought she had something of worth to the woman. Didn’t she once say she had her uses? Though she never divulged what they truly were…beyond the obvious, Lana couldn’t help but wonder… She didn’t have long to ponder such things though, as Mary stood before her – when had she moved so fast? – and looked her up and down.

‘Out of bed are we, Miss Winters?’ She asked.

‘Same could be said for you.’

‘What seems to be the problem? Can’t sleep? Too many dreams?’ Mary mocked but rather than shaking her head in response, Lana looked back at her with an absence of expression.

‘Too many screams.’ She replied in a deadpan tone.

‘I guess it is a little disruptive,’ Mary said with a chuckle. ‘When they’re not yours I mean. Perhaps we should do something about that.’

‘I shouldn’t…I should go.’ Lana tried to sidestep her, find her way, a way to slip around the nun and continue on her way but with each of her slightest movements, Mary seemed to mirror them, replicate them and barricade the rest of the hallway as always. All without a touch. And that was what irritated Lana the most. She didn’t even have to make physical contact in order to keep her on edge. But if she did, oh if she did it was much worse. For all the power she claimed through words, height and gesture, it was all for nought when skin touched skin. Beneath her fingertips, in the depths of her mind, the nun possessed a power corrupted. Such power was absolute. They both knew it. She relished it. And Lana despised her for it.

‘What is it that you are so desperate to get back to I wonder…’ Mary placed a finger to her lips as if in thought. ‘If I remember correctly, you were in quite the hurry this morning too. One has to wonder what you get up to, all alone.’

‘What are you talking about?’ She was well aware of exactly what Mary was referring to, but she wasn’t about to let it slide so easily into the open. Mary sneered at her response; they weren’t fooling each other. They skirted around with words, but they both knew the truth. And lately what had merely been a morsel to mess with had become a much more entertaining player in the devil’s games. Where she had expected Lana to bend and submit as time went on, the woman had developed an attitude of the opposite kind and formed a stubborn opposition that grew with each interaction. It was as interesting as it was irritating that neither of them wanted to back down to the other. They weren’t exactly butting horns, Lana liked to skit around and find an alternate opening if she could, find a weakness and exploit it rather than face head on and Mary herself was similar in some respects although her actual application was vastly different and she had no trouble if it came to blows which she could give or return with much pleasure if needed. Still, the reporter, how she wriggled out of her grasp and writhed under her touch…Such an energetic little mouse for such an eager cat to play with.

‘Your little therapy sessions with Thredson not good enough for you now? Or was it something else? Someone else?’ The suggestive wink certainly hadn’t gone amiss and tried as she might to restrain herself, Lana’s vexation was seen in her curled fists, her clenched jaw. Such visible exasperation as always only provoked the sister who tutted a few times before she added with considerable condescension; ‘You’ll never get better if you don’t admit you have a problem, your problem.’ The animalistic groan – or was it more of a growl? – from Lana was so unlike her previous displays of stoic character that for a second Mary was genuinely surprised. In that same second, Lana took the taller of the two by the shoulders and twisted the pair of them until the nun’s back hit the wall with a dull thunk. In truth she hadn’t meant to push so hard, yet at the same time there was a satisfaction that came with the sound albeit it was soon lost.

‘Would you stop?’ Lana asked; her voice an unusual amalgamation of both growl and beg. Mary seemed unperturbed by the turn of events and smiled.

‘Stop what?’ The brunette shook her again, her shoulders hit the wall repeatedly.

‘Please, just stop…I can’t…’ Lana’s voice faltered, her eyes looked away from Mary’s own that shone with an inhuman light.

‘Can’t handle this? Finally you admit?’ The nun’s head cocked to the side with a lop-sided grin. Lana shook her head, although her hands remained tight on Mary’s upper arms. If anything, her grip became tighter as though she tried to convince herself of something, the truth that was right in front of her? 

‘I never wanted this.’ She denied determinedly, and the words came out louder than she had initially intended. But which of them was she trying to convince?

‘But you do now.’ So confident, so self-assured, so smug. But was she right? Had she fallen so far?

‘I…’

‘And you will.’ That smirk would be the death of her. She slammed the woman against the wall once more with another aggravated groan.

‘You don’t…’ Her voice dropped as she heard footsteps as they echoed down the hallway. The steps were slow, but nearby. One quick glance – Lana didn’t trust the blonde with more than a moment’s distraction in such a position – and sure enough it was confirmed. She hadn’t imagined it. The noise of their conversation had finally attracted inevitable, and unwanted, attention. One of the older nuns, who bore a remarkable similarity to the plump woman who had guided Lana to the showers that day – perhaps it was the same woman who had lost the tiniest bit of weight about her face – had spotted them from across the hall. It was difficult to tell in the dim light with a little more distance between them but at a best guess the look on her face was one of criticism.

‘Back to bed you two,’ she called to them. So she knew who they were, that would have made a change considering how often they went unseen, one way or another… Perhaps she didn’t know and merely assumed… No, she knew, from the way the woman waddled towards them and shook her head as she got closer. Even if she hadn’t before, she recognised them then. No doubt she disapproved of the two of them, the injured sister and the insane patient left alone to wander the halls and cause a scene so late into the evening. Lana let go of the woman’s shoulders, took a step back. The plump sister seemed to look them both up and down, searched for some sign or explanation of a discrepancy between the two but having found none simply repeated herself in a voice presumably meant to sound firmer than it did. ‘Back to bed, both of you.’ The sister turned to walk back the way she had come, although Lana did wonder why she had bothered at all if that was all she was about to do, then the woman stopped as though she noticed Sister Eunice was not following and waited. Lana made no move to leave herself but waited for the other two to go on ahead which would then have left her with a free route to her room with no interventions the second time around. Much like the other woman, she waited for Mary, although she watched while the plump one still had her back turned away. With this advantage in mind, Mary lashed out a hand, gripped Lana’s wrist tight – she could probably have felt the bone beneath her skin in such a grip – and yanked her close once more so that her lips were level to the reporter’s ear as she whispered. A close proximity that had become an all too familiar feeling.

‘I’m in control. You helped put me back here. And now there is no going back, for anyone. Remember that.’


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are folks. The last chapter of this instalment. This whole piece was initially written to be read as a slight tangent of the canon that then folds itself back into the mainstream beyond this ending, which is why I'm sad to say it ended/ends here. Thanks for reading.

A number of weeks had passed by, or at least that was what Lana had assumed for there was no easy way to keep up with the passage of time from within the institution where all the days blurred into one another too easily. She had formed a way to tell the days apart through her initial stints of Mary’s observation which had begun very frequent. But as the time went on and she recovered – at least in the physical sense – the required visits to the infirmary became less and less frequent, once every few days, once a week, a few hours at most before she was shooed away. And however consistent the timings Lana had worked out before regarding the passage of days, as the resting periods grew shorter it was harder to keep track, not to mention Mary herself made it more difficult when her own encounters with Lana threw her off her carefully constructed mark for one reason or another. Lana wasn’t sure which situation was worse. When the nun – and therefore herself – was restricted to bed rest, during the first few days Lana had to endure several convoluted conversations, usually which she was not actually a part of at all but merely a witness to as the blonde fought with herself, or an unseen adversary of some kind that Lana could not pinpoint. As time drew on though, the conversations took a turn, became less ‘one-sided’ – if that was what the previous could have been called - and Lana did become more involved but more so at her own expense, subjected to harsh insults, sarcastic comments and on the odd occasion a death threat (some certainly more mild than others). When the woman had recovered enough to be granted more physical freedom again – not that she hadn’t already started to disobey by that point and venture with what she could get away with as Lana had experienced well before – she didn’t simply return to her duties as Lana had hoped that she might. Rather than being repulsed by her company, the constant vigilance and curious mind of the reporter had only intrigued her and as such she took it upon herself to find and expand every crack and crevice Lana may have left exposed in her exterior. Evasion was futile for either period of time and for the duration of both, Lana wished for the other. But as much as she hoped to return to just verbal threats or degradation, Mary had recovered to the point of free reign within the asylum once again, a fact that Jude was visibly glad about and Mary herself took advantage of if only to pluck at Lana’s frayed nerves to her heart’s darkened content.

So Lana had been initially confused when she had been summoned to Jude’s office as far as she was aware she had done nothing to aggravate the older woman or earn her punishment as of late and even if she had done so she would have thought her recent aid without complaint for the woman may have tided her over. Nevertheless she knocked on the door and entered the room. The sound of rain greeted her as it lashed the widow in heavy sheets, accompanied by the wind that she had heard on her way through the halls to the office. At times the building felt like a fortress, yet sometimes it could also seem so hollow. Instead of the expected elder sister sat stiffly behind the wooden desk, Lana was welcomed with the rather relaxed form of Mary Eunice reclined in the chair. She looked up from the desk, spotted Lana in the doorway and motioned for her to come inside with a wave of her hand. Wary of what the nun may have had in mind whilst the two of them were yet again left alone, Lana closed the door behind herself, ensured it shut with a click before she turned back towards Mary again who had stood up from behind the desk and made her way towards her slowly. In her hands she carried two small glasses and Lana’s eyes flickered to the tumbler left on the desk filled with the same murky liquid the nun balanced in those thin fingers of hers. 

‘Here, some wine,’ Mary said as she handed one of the glasses out to Lana, all but pushed it into her hands. The glass was warm when it touched her fingers, or was that the remains if when Mary’s had brushed by hers? The sister turned back to the desk and apparently dissatisfied once she looked in her glass, poured more of the beverage from the tumbler. She looked back at Lana, after she had delved into another drawer of the desk, grasped a cigarette and leaned precariously on the desk edge as she lit it. She didn’t offer Lana a spare.

‘Where did you find this?’ Lana asked as she peered into her own glass, looked at the substance inside warily. The fact Mary seemed to have momentarily neglected hers only unsettled Lana’s thoughts which already ran amock with possibilities…

‘Our resident alcoholic authority.’ Answered the nun with a small smirk before she took another drag on the cigarette. Seeing Lana’s expression of unease, she waved off the caution with a gesture of her hand. Tendrils of smoke floated upwards in wispy lines to and fro. ‘Oh relax,’ she drawled. ‘It’s no poison to anyone except the old hag.’

‘Why?’ Uncertainty crept across Lana’s features. Everything about that moment was just too calm, too casual especially in comparison to all the times they had come across one another before in which there was something to be gained and more often than not something equally to be lost. To let her guard down was to trust something would not happen that she would regret once she had left that same room. ‘Why this, why now?’ she asked again, with another glance at her drink, although she did not drink it. Mary gave a sigh of sorts as though she were disappointed the reporter hadn’t figured it out for herself.

‘Consider it a job well done.’ She replied as she looked about for an ashtray or something similar but as there was not one in sight she stubbed the end of the cigarette on the edge of the desk instead. Had she really gotten through it so fast? Or had Lana been lost in her thoughts longer than she knew and the nun had left her to it? Mary wiped the few scatterings of ash from the fabric of her habit and moved around the desk again. ‘You did what I asked you to.’ She reiterated with the vaguest of gestures to her side before she sat down in the chair. ‘In the end.’ Was an added afterthought. She motioned for the brunette to sit, to take the chair empty opposite the desk although it did look odd to see someone younger sat behind it rather than the stern face of the elder owner of the office that she had grown accustomed to.

‘So you wouldn’t kill me.’ Lana replied flatly, honestly as she did as she was bid and sat in the chair, the glass, still half full, still untouched, held precariously in her lap. Mary laughed, her eyes crinkled with amusement and the light that reflected from the dim lamp hung above and kept the room from the possession of too many shadows.

‘And here you are, alive, celebrating a toast to health with a glass of mediocre wine; I’d say you’ve done well.’ The blonde retaliated with a grin that faltered, fell into a look of perplexity when she looked the paralyzed patient up and down. ‘How grateful you are.’ She said sarcastically before she mused for a moment, then deliberated, ‘perhaps I should have asked. Although it is easy to accommodate for if only you had said so.’ A glance towards the large wooden wardrobe that took up a corner of the room did not go amiss, about as much as the white teeth of the sister’s smile. Lana didn’t have to turn around in her seat, or even turn her head to know what it was she looked at, what she implied. ‘I didn’t think you were one to prefer the whip over the wine, Winters.’ As though a reflection of their oppositions in nature, where Mary’s eyes shone, Lana’s own dark gaze absorbed the light like black pools where the horrors she had witnessed and yet to witness lingered. That flicker of fear, the eyes of a doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck that could not be outrun shimmered for a few seconds there. Lana’s voice was tense.

‘What’s there to stop you killing me now?’ The thought had crossed her mind but there was no need to suppress it as her predator had cottoned on to the scent. Mary’s eyes grasped her as firmly as any grip of her hand may have done, kept her in that seat. The sound of thunder broke outside. When had the rain turned to a storm? A chill ran down her spine when the smile that had been so easy going and amused before fell from the sister’s face, replaced by a cold seriousness.

‘Nothing.’ And she was right. Lana had known from the very start that there would come a time when she had potentially outlived her usefulness. Of course, she had the supposed support of others that for all intents and purposes could have tried to stop certain circumstances from occurring, fellow patients like Kit or possibly Thredson, or even after her recent voluntary work she liked to think Sister Jude would throw in her figurative two cents but perhaps that was wishful thinking… But not one of them was there to help then. Lana was alone with her again, except this time around she had so little to stop her, least of all her injuries which had become old and all but finally recovered from. She has seen the traces where the tissue had begun to scar in the pale flesh - in a much more jagged manner than the thin line across her arm - the last time they had been together… Regardless of that flash of memory, Lana tried to calm the rapid thud of her anxious heart; never had she been more glad for the thick wood that sat between them like a barricade. It wasn’t much, and no doubt with past incidents in mind it wouldn’t be but it was something solid that provided a few feet more of distance and for that Lana was grateful.

‘For all I know, you could have poisoned this whilst I wasn’t in the room, could just be waiting for me…’ Lana proposed and raised the glass in question from her lap so it was in Mary’s view. The look on the other woman’s face became less of a threat once again. 

‘My, my, doesn’t someone sound paranoid.’ Despite her scathing tone, Mary reached for the full glass that sat atop the desk and drew it to her lips whilst Lana watched. ‘You did take your meds this morning, didn’t you Miss Winters?’ She took a swallow but her eyes watched Lana from across the rim, as though she anticipated a reaction although the brunette quashed her discomfort as stubbornly as ever.

‘Could you blame me?’ She asked and knowing the nun’s eyes never left her, resigned to take a sip of the beverage. Mary was pleased; she had bent the woman’s will again even if only in a minor sense. Lana meanwhile grimaced at the taste that touched her tongue; she hadn’t expected anything exquisite but the flat dull flavour of the wine wasn’t even the slightest bit pleasant. Quite a contrast to the last glass of wine she remembered, that had been for a celebration too, had it not? Something to do with her stories and now it was just for her survival… 

‘I suppose I could hardly blame you, no.’ Her flow of thought, of memory, had been interrupted before it had even truly begun. ‘But you do still have your uses, Lana, I wouldn’t do away with you just yet.’ Lana released a breath between her lips she hadn’t realised she had been holding; it could almost have been a sigh of relief. The blonde swirled the drink around in her hand and a brief flash of lightning lit up her thoughtful expression. ‘Besides, if I were to kill you now it wouldn’t be with this piss poor excuse for a drink.’ Another swig of the wine in the glass whilst the reporter watched. Proof that what Mary had said was not the lie Lana feared it might be? She wasn’t sure she wanted to ask the sister exactly how she would have ended her life if given the option; the many possibilities for an answer were too numerous to think about but it was more than likely it would not have been a pleasant one. Or particularly quick either. Mary seemed to have guessed her train of thought from the pallor of her complexion and once she had downed the last of her share of the wine, her mouth dropped open as though she were about to broach the very subject when the door to the office was pushed open and took the blonde by mild surprise. Evidently she hadn’t expected anyone else to interrupt them for some time. Let alone the figure of Sister Jude who entered the room. Lana placed the glass in her lap down on the desk, pushed it a little further away with a finger before the woman could have noticed it in her possession and ask unwanted questions. Mary on the other hand did not seem so bothered by the potential of being caught with contraband. 

‘Ah, there you are,’ Jude stated having spotted her sat behind the desk. She did not question it, nor did she appear to acknowledge Lana’s presence in the moment who remained quiet. Much as Mary had a habit of doing so to Lana, Jude’s eyes looked the younger nun up and down as though she inspected every visible inch of her, searched for signs of anything out of the ordinary. Even though it had been some time since, and she would never had said so aloud, the unusual break of character in Mary Eunice that evening still haunted the older woman. ‘I trust all is well after your somewhat swift recovery?’

‘That it is, sister.’ Mary replied and tucked her bangs back with her free hand and a small smile that Lana knew to be fake, it was much too modest – not at all the predatory leer Lana had been given before. Lana herself finally convinced her legs to move of their own accord again and stood up from her chair, shuffled to the side out of the way as Jude moved across the room and came to a stop just behind it. The older nun’s hands laid atop the back of the chair and Lana was glad she had moved so they had not fallen upon her shoulders instead. She had had enough of claws there, whomever they belonged to, good or bad. The gesture in itself rarely ever came prior to anything in her favour.

‘And I also trust we shall be seeing no repeat performances of your erratic behaviour in the foreseeable future?’

‘I have no desire to let such things happen again, sister. I was simply…overwhelmed. Not quite myself. It won’t happen again.’ Lana scoffed inwardly, knowing from obscure first-hand experience that the truth went much deeper than that, was much more than the nun let on, but she made no sound aloud. Mary on the other hand placed her empty glass of wine – when had it become empty? Had she finished it so fast? – down on the desk top with that same small smile that said so little but hid so much.

‘See to it that it does not. I’ll be damned if I were…if this institution were to lose such a valuable…’ Was that hesitation Lana saw in the usually so severe figure? She seemed to take a moment or two to put the right words together. ‘If ever again you were to feel…that this sort of incident should occur you should come straight to me, do you understand?’ Lana saw the woman’s hands tighten their grip on the wood; the very veins across the back of her palm seemed to have risen with the tension.

‘Of course.’ Mary nodded with what was presumably meant to be more of a solemn expression; Lana saw straight through it. Jude’s eyes however were elsewhere. She had spotted the tumbler and glasses on the desk and finally acknowledged them for what they were, and what she may have intruded upon.

‘I do hope you have not taken up another vice in the meantime…’ Jude said as she eyed the glasses with a wary countenance, particularly the one that stood empty closer to the young nun.

‘Of course not.’ The younger nun denied while she stood up from behind the desk again and picked up the glass and near empty tumbler of wine. Although she left the drink she had given to Lana on the desk, she turned on her heel and walked across the room to place them atop one of the shadowed shelves; a temporary home but at least they were to be out of sight, out of mind. ‘I think we both remember that such roads as those always end with more than one casualty.’ She was deliberately forceful as she put the glass objects down. So much so that the sound of the impact of glass on wood jarred the figures in the room. Particularly the scrape of glass against the tumbler to which Jude shook her head. Mary turned her head back, looked over at Jude with a feigned look of apology and saw the woman’s slightest flinch. She hid it well, recovered herself as though it had not affected her in the slightest but Mary was well aware she had breached a weakness with the smallest of actions and fully enjoyed such knowledge. Neither Mary nor Jude seemed to have any regard for Lana, in fact it had been as though they had forgotten that she were in the room at all but a few feet away. Taking it as her chance to escape, she shuffled towards the door and her fingers wrapped silently around the cool handle, about to pull it open, about to leave…

‘Just a moment, Miss Winters.’ Jude’s voice penetrated the silence that Lana had not realised the room had fallen into bar the torrents of rain against the window from the storm that had picked up outside. Reluctantly she pried her fingers away from the handle and turned back around to face the room, inaudibly cursed herself that she was not as fast as she could have been. Still, she patiently awaited whatever verbal backlash she feared she was to receive from the woman who had called her last name and prevented her flight – she was by no means in any mood to fight with weapons or words, she just wanted one night without the fear for her very survival… Apparently such a thing was too much to ask for in a place such as Briarcliff. 

‘Was there something you wanted, sister?’ She prompted, held her hands firmly down by her sides, despite the temptation to turn and leave without looking back whatever the woman said. Mary too, from where she stood, also seemed intrigued and waited without comment. Another roll of thunder passed – the storm must have gotten closer - before Jude’s hands uncurled their grip from the back of the wooden chair and she turned to face Lana with an unreadable expression.

‘Just a thank you,’ Jude said. ‘For doing as I requested.’ A crack of lightning lit the far window of the room with a flash and Lana blinked, dumbfounded. Of all the things Lana had expected, gratitude had not been high up on her mental list, nevertheless Jude’s words were genuine. ‘Had I known you were to be trusted to such an extent, perhaps I would have been somewhat less severe with you.’ She continued and Lana all but scoffed at that. It was a tad too late to say such things in her opinion, but however she felt she kept her thoughts to herself, her mouth shut and listened without a remark. ‘As it stands you are no longer required and are relieved of your duties regarding the infirmary.’ The breath of relief was released before she could have taken it back. As good as it felt to have been useful, have a purpose and pass the time of her incarceration a little quicker, she was glad to be given the escape of the smaller confines the infirmary had become. She may not have been able to escape the building just yet but she had more of a chance to avoid Mary when she wasn’t left alone in a room with her. From the look on Mary’s face, she was not as disappointed with this turn of events as Lana had thought; if anything, she looked more enticed because of it. No doubt the thrill of the chase, to which Jude remained oblivious. 

‘You understand that the reasons for your being there are to remain strictly between ourselves.’ Jude lectured, and the severity Lana knew her for had returned to her voice. ‘You may return to whatever it was you saw fit to pass the time with before, although should you feel a lax in purpose, I’m sure the bakery already has an opening for your steady hand.’ With that and a wave of her hand, Jude dismissed her. Lana’s relief lasted but a split second as Mary caught her eye. The young nun made no move closer, but she did not have to. The glow of her eyes, that dark flicker of old, or black, or red in the dim light struck her with a fever all the same. Lana dragged her eyes away, tried to focus her gaze solely on the door that she turned back to and pulled open. Those eyes burnt behind her, behind her eyelids, upon her back. 

‘Don’t worry,’ Mary’s voice called after her, sickeningly smooth. ‘I shall be sure to pay you back in kind, in what ways I can, Miss Winters.’

_Flash._

She would not sleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come full circle. I do have the bare bones of a sequel to this that I started to write back in 2015, but whether that will ever come to fruition/completion remains to be seen. Perhaps if there is enough generated interest for it I might pick it back up again and see if I can make something of it but as of the moment this story can stand alone. I hope you've enjoyed it. It was both a pleasure and a pain to write. Please let me know what you think and I welcome any thoughts, feelings, etc regarding this or any future bananun endeavours you might like to see - feel free to drop a comment here or stop by my tumblr @welshdragonrawr

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think.


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